Bearing Witness to the Times: Dealer of the White House

(Shutterstock photo)

Dealer of the White House

(To the tune of “Master of the House” from Les Misérables)

Dealer of the White House

Believe me, I can charm

Ready with a handshake

(If you're not like Mom*).

Tweeting out the tales

Making quite a stir

Voters seem to like a little flying fur.

Glad to do a friend a favor,

Putin says I’m really smart.

I can bring it all together,

Everything except a little heart.

Dealer of the White House

Herder of the cats

Signing orders everywhere

For this and that.

Rallying the base

(It’s really kind of fun)

While I take away the safety net from everyone.

Tell the crowd I’m gonna fix things,

Make ‘em think they’ve got a friend

Tell ‘em anything they like

But you know I’m gonna fleece ‘em in the end.

Yes I’m the Dealer of the White House,

Best there’s ever been.

Got a crazy plan

To really do us in.

Tweak a little here

Take a little there

Making sure the corporations get their share.

Take away the arts and learning

Build a lot of bombs and walls

You can make the country great

Or you can prop it up before it falls.

Yeah, you can make the country great
Or you can prop it up before it falls!

                                                        ~ CK

President Trump meets with German Chancellor Merkel in the Oval Office
  Friday, March 17, 2017.(AP photo by Evan Vucci )

*"No Oval Office Handshake Between Trump, Merkel"

*    *    *    *

From my introductory post:

The best thing that poets can do is to bear witness to the times – articulate what is happening in the moment; speak to the real life experiences of your people.  I am setting myself a goal to write a poem each week that reflects what I see and experience in the life of our nation... if I can write one poem a week there will be some chronicle of our sacred/tested/doubtful union.

-

Bearing Witness to the Times: Sanctions and Bans (A National Nursery Rhyme)

Protesters at Los Angeles International Airport
(AP photo by Reed Saxon)

                                           

Sanctions and bans,

Sanctions and bans.

The stroke of a pen

Disrupts many plans.

Plans for a future,

Plans for a life.

The rich make the rules,

The rules make the strife.

Strife in the east,

Strife in the west.

The fearful and greedy

Dictate what is best.

Best for the nation,

Best for the land;

But where will the people –

The working class stand?

They stand at the airports

With signs in their hands.

They stand up to protest

The sanctions and bans.

Sanctions and bans,

Sanctions and bans,

The courts put a kink

In the president’s plans.

Plans now upended;

Whose plans will we see?

Will they be for a people

Who yearn to breathe free?

                                 ~ CK

                                                                    *  *   *   

From my introductory post:

The best thing that poets can do is to bear witness to the times – articulate what is happening in the moment; speak to the real life experiences of your people.  I am setting myself a goal to write a poem each week that reflects what I see and experience in the life of our nation... if I can write one poem a week there will be some chronicle of our sacred/tested/doubtful union...

"Thousands protest against Trump travel ban in cities and airports nationwide"
(from The Guardian)

-

Bearing Witness to the Times: There's a New Man in Town

There’s a New Man in Town

(Looking at the first week of a new presidency)

The skies remain a dystopian gray

As the president

Churns out executive orders.

Amazon. com sold every available copy

Of George Orwell’s 1984.

The week saw thousands of people

Who could not stay home.

They filled the streets.

Women led the charge

Voicing resistance,

Celebrating diversity,

Protesting bigotry, hate, and prejudice.

In city after city

Crowds exceeded expectation.

Millions moved

In buoyant hope.

And the president keeps writing executive orders,

Vowing to make America White Great again.

He shuts out the refugee,

Insists upon building a wall.

Where is the hand of friendship?

Magnanimity in now anathema.

Some people whisper,

“He’s come unhinged.”

I think of the Marlon Brando character

In that movie, Apocalypse Now –

The army colonel who went rogue.

He headed down river

Into the jungle,

Holding sway

By ruthless tactics.

(They got that idea from

Conrad’s Heart of Darkness)

That’s what I think about.

Meanwhile,

I pruned my crepe myrtles

Like I always do in winter.

I filled the bird feeders

With sunflower seeds.

Sparrows chirp

In bare trees

And we all await the coming of spring.

~ CK

From my introductory post:

The best thing that poets can do is to bear witness to the times – articulate what is happening in the moment; speak to the real life experiences of your people.  I am setting myself a goal to write a poem each week that reflects what I see and experience in the life of our nation... if I can write one poem a week there will be some chronicle of our sacred/tested/doubtful union...
-